Feeling terribly proud of himself that his diverting of energies had worked, however temporarily, it was clear that Gryffindor - and the entire climate of the Great Hall for that matter - simply could NOT be tamed. The ghost's only lament was that he did not posses that capabilities of joining in the merriment!

But it all seemed over FAR too soon. Even though it seemed as though not even rain could dampen the lion's, and a few scattered members from other houses, fighting spirit. Quite admiral, really.

"Oh dear," the ghost whispered when his gaze fell upon the Head of House who was looking madder than he had ever seen the gentleman. This would not be pleasant. For anyone.

And it certainly was not.

Gliding backwards a bit after the professor's look, Sir Nicholas took it upon himself to look towards each of the Gryffindors and try to read their expressions. Good Merlin, professor! You were crushing their spirits! And they all had such fight in them!

Moving through the table, the ghost purposefully approached the professor and continued to offer encouraging - and cheeky - smiles to each Gryffindor he passed. "Excuse me, Professor Flamsteed," he said softly. "Perhaps this is not the best way to start off the term? At this rate all of them will go to bed hungry and be malnourished for lessons tomorrow." Outside of the trauma to being introduce to their Head of House's bulging vein. "Cold sandwiches, perhaps?" Because surely he would not expect them to eat this soggy meal. Not even a ghost would wish to pass through that to try and savor flavours. "And I did egg them on a little, so the fault is not entirely their own. Not to mention those that were directly involved are showing sincere signs of remorse."